


Smoke Signals

by flameandsword



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (Slight) miscommunication, AU, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), College AU, F/F, Gay Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Modern Era, Poetry, Theatre, University AU, dark academia setting, no beta we die like yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28482759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flameandsword/pseuds/flameandsword
Summary: Thanks to a scholarship, Sokka transfers to an elite private university in which he feels entirely out of place.Somehow, he ends up joining the drama club as the prop-guy.That is also where he meets moody but utterly fascinating Zuko, who is to play the starring role.While Sokka is trying to navigate a new school and living in a new country, the university walls keep getting vandalized by an unknown poet, only known as "The Blue Spirit", who regularly sprays his work on the facades.Sokka and Zuko begin to grow closer, but something is holding Zuko back- he definitely has a secret.Naturally, Sokka is determined to discover what that secret is.Also, is he going crazy, or do the Blue Spirit's recent poems kinda sound like they're about Sokka?
Relationships: Mai/Ty Lee (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 80





	1. Words are the physicians of the minds diseased

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Blood (not a lot, someone just cuts their hand)

Sokka steps through the pompous metal gate, trying to swallow the lump that has formed in his throat.  
One glance at the auburn brick buildings towering up in front of him and he is assured he doesn't belong here. He feels sort of shabby midst the accurately trimmed bushes and polished fences. Sokka's never been necessarily good at blending in -he's simply too loud for that- but right now he's standing out like a flamingo midst a flock of pigeons. 

The air is moist and a sharp gust of wind tugs uncomfortably at the skin of his hands. He slips them into the pockets of his over-sized denim jacket, resisting the urge to pull his hood over his head.

Briefly he considers actually leaving; going back to his new apartment, throwing his belongings into his suitcase again and taking the next flight home.  
But his dad's face pops up in his head, encouragingly looking down at him. Sokka remembers being pulled into a warm bear hug, his father mumbling that he's proud of him. He recalls his sister taking both of his hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly, and promising him he's got this.

Cringing, he forces himself to take another step forward, and another after that. Cautiously he makes his way toward the entrance of what he, based on it's size and central placement, assumes has to be the main building. Not quite ready to go in yet he pulls out his phone.

[Where are you?] he texts Toph.

It takes a few minutes until he gets a reply.

[Busy. Suki's waiting for you inside.]

No further instructions.  
No explanation as to who Suki is or where specifically she's waiting for him.  
Toph hasn't changed after all: She's always been reckless (mostly in a good way).

He doesn't know what else to do, so Sokka grabs the metal door handle and steps into the intimidating building.  
The inside is even more monumental.  
He finds himself in a grant hall framed by large windows that span all the way from the polished stone floor to the ceiling. The entire hall seems flooded with the shy light of the early morning sun. A giant, ancient looking painting covers the otherwise bare brick wall to his left.  
There are two girls descending an expansive spiral staircase that leads to the first floor, chatting quietly. Sokka feels like he stepped into an exclusive art gallery or a millionaire's secret hideout, not the entrance hall of a university.

Uncertainly looking around and not knowing whether he's supposed to go searching for this Suki or if he should wait here, Sokka pulls out his phone again and stares at his home screen just to look busy.  
He feels like an idiot.

Thankfully it doesn't take long until there is a high, warm voice questioningly exclaiming his name.

He hastily looks up and finds himself facing an invitingly smiling girl with chin-length brown hair half tied up into a bun.  
She has one hand lifted in a reluctant wave while the other is resting on the strap of her brown leather bag.

“That's me”, he replies and smiles back, letting his phone slip back into his jacket he raises a hand as well, mirroring her.  
Walking towards her he's able to get a better look at her: She has a heart-shaped face, full lips and big blue eyes framed by neatly applied red winged liner. The blazer and pleated skirt she's wearing would have looked pretentious on most others, but she just looks effortlessly cool and sophisticated.

“So this is your first day, huh? Toph told me to show you around. I'm Suki”, she introduces herself.

Sokka smiles. “Yeah, it is. Thanks for taking the time.”

“That's alright”, Suki shrugs, “Shall we?” She gestures towards the hallway and the two of them begin walking.

“How long have you been studying here?”, Sokka asks – and not just for the sake of making small talk.  
Suki seems like an interesting person and he's excited to find out more about her.

“Oh, about two years I think”, Suki guesstimates, “It was always clear to my family that I would be studying here though, and I was always fine with it. This is a pretty good uni after all.”

Sokka flinches when he hears her call it pretty good. Agni Academy is the most elite university in the country- so exclusive barely anyone can get in. It's pretty much impossible -even if your grades are flawless- if you don't have the precisely right connections, or are willing to immolate an absurd amount of money. That Suki appraises this school to be pretty good tells Sokka she's used to nonpareils.  
He doesn't desert her for it nor is he jealous. It's not her fault he wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He simply had to work a little harder to get here and that taught him a lot. Like... endurance. And the importance of caffeine.

“Toph told me you got a scholarship”, Suki adds, turning her head to face Sokka, the small golden hoops in her earlobes dangling.

Sokka nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! It was a lot of work and sometimes I slept so little even my eye-bags had eye-bags. But it all worked out in the end and I'm here now!”  
He throws his hands in the air in excitement and a girl walking past them gives him a weird look.

Suki giggles. It's a pleasant sound and Sokka feels affection spreading in his chest; unfolding like these little towels pressed into fun shapes when you drop them into water.

“That's impressive. You should be proud of yourself”

“I am! Not in a braggy way, I just worked really hard for a really long time and it's nice that it payed off”

“I think you should be allowed to brag about it a little”, Suki winks at him.  
Yep. Sokka is one hundred percent sure the two of them are going to be great together.  
“And how do you know Toph? She only asked me if I could show a new guy around and didn't tell me anything about you”

“Are you sure she asked?”, Sokka laughs.

“Well”, Suki shrugs and Sokka laughs a little louder.

“We grew up together, actually...”  
Nostalgia washes over him as he remembers Toph and himself playing and getting into trouble together while their parents -his long-haired, doting dad with his bright and always-smiling eyes and Toph's parents covered in their expensive silks, postures always uncomfortably straight- were discussing important matters he was too small to understand.  
“My dad's chief and he met Toph's parents when they came to our village for business. There were never really many other children around, so a new face was always exciting. We were roughly the same age and got along really well. We were experts in getting in trouble together. At the beginning Toph's parents were really overprotective, but eventually they accepted that Toph can hold her own. If you know her, you know she's a force to be reckoned with”  
What Sokka leaves out is how persistently his dad had to stand up for Toph to convince her parents to let her breathe, just a little. How long it took for them to understand she did not need to be protected from the whole world just because she's blind.

“We were absolutely incautious. To this day I'm surprised my family's house still stands”, Sokka finishes.

Suki smiles at him again. “I can see that”

“Well, her parents kept coming back every few months or so, for a few weeks at a time. They still do, but Toph hasn't since she enrolled here”

“You must miss her”

“Yeah, but don't tell her I said that. She'd punch me”

As Suki leads him through the long, minimalist hallways, she tells Sokka that she's a computer science major and that she knows Toph from the uni's Hung Gar club in which the latter is infamous for being absolutely merciless and winning every match.

Suki seems quite impressed when Sokka tells her about taking mechanical engineering and asks him why he's taking that class. Nobody has ever asked him why he's passionate about it, people usually just assume he's in it for the money. And while that is a nice side effect, yes, Sokka is incredibly fascinated by inventing. He loves that he has the power to create anything he likes, if he puts the work in. It makes him feel invincible. There's nothing more rewarding when a design finally works out after hours of fiddling and altering.

They walk past countless framed photographs, certificates and giant oak doors that lead to lecture halls and labs. Sokka can feel his eyes growing wider and wider with every oddly specific major's library they pass and his jaw drops when they reach the grant hall. It's enormous and there's a freaking chandelier dangling from the high ceiling. All of the main building is shockingly modern but the way antiques are woven into the interior makes it awe-inspiring.

“This is insane”, Sokka gasps and Suki chuckles.

After having been guided through all of the three buildings and discovering the other two are just as splendid as the main one -if not as ornate- all that's left for Sokka to check out are the gardens.

“You can also enter the school from this side, that way you only have to walk through a small part of the botanical garden and not cross the whole yard on the other side”, Suki explains, “It's a shortcut so most people use this one, in case you were wondering why there was barely anyone there when you arrived”

They walk past the rose bushes that are carefully forged into shape and a protruding yoshino cherry tree (according to the tiny metal sign in front of it) that's covered in thousands of delicate pink blossoms. They turn left after a fountain and Sokka stops dead in his tracks.

“What the heck?”

They're standing in front of the backside of one of the side buildings, but something's off:  
There are big, black letters sprayed onto the facade, running down the polished bricks like fresh ink. Sokka fails to decipher any of the words because he's too caught off guard. He snaps out of it when he hears Suki sigh next to him.

“This again”, she states dryly.

“Huh?” Sokka grunts.

“Don't worry about this”, Suki grabs him by the arm and drags him on, away from the crime scene. “This happens sometimes”

“What do you mean, this happens sometimes?”

She wiggles her free hand around in the air, as if trying to wave away his question.  
“There's this mysterious person that thinks they're some sort of grand poet, regularly spraying melodramatic shit on the walls around here. Don't know who hurt them. Honestly, I'd think it's kinda cool, wouldn't the school always let out their wrath on all of us. This has been going on for months”, Suki explains, still decidedly guiding Sokka forward, “Boy, do I not wanna know how much money it cost them already. So don't mind it. They'll be scrubbing at it in a bit.”

But Sokka can't help and turn around again. 

Although he has to bend his neck to an uncomfortable degree he can now make out what the curved letters say:

I walk a line  
Is this silence or surrender?  
You shove your hands  
over both of my eyes  
You can control  
my body but  
you can't control my mind 

And below the poem; a signature. Not in black, but in a blunt cobalt. 

-the Blue Spirit

After Sokka quickly caught up to Suki, they make their way through the rest of the botanical garden. The syllables on the wall are still bouncing through his thoughts. 

The two of them move too quick for Sokka to take in all of the diverse flora surrounding them, but he suspects he's going to have enough time to inspect it all properly soon, so he doesn't ask her to slow down.

It also seems like she's set on a certain destination.  
And she is.

Suki decidedly leads him into a more insular part of the smallest of the three university buildings, through hallways that aren't flooded with natural light, given the lack of everywhere else seemingly common over-sized windows. There are no sumptuous medals and certificates boasting about who knows who's achievements displayed. Sokka can tell they entered a part of the academy that isn't usually shown off. Still, his previous school and every other one he has ever set foot in, pales in comparison.

They turn a few corners and then Suki stops in front of a large double winged oak door, a palm placed on each side and dramatically pushes both of them open. The gate easily succumbs beneath her touch, swinging back wide.  
Suki marches through and Sokka follows, curious as to where this sparkler of a girl is leading him.

“You'll love this”, she says, looking back at him over her shoulder, smirking.

The hall is big enough to hold at least three hundred people in the auditorium beneath the black wooden stage towering up in the center. Red satin curtains are pulled back and gathered at the sides. There are cables and various tools scattered everywhere; on the stage, around it. A guy is working on thick black cables while sitting in the middle of said trinkets, which makes him look like an offering; as if he's about to be sacrificed to a peculiar divine being.

“What's this place?” Sokka asks, the poetic vandalism forgotten.

“This is where you'll find the cool people”, Suki replies sarcastically, arms crossed and jokingly wiggling her brows.

Never in his life has Sokka heard the theater kids being referred to as as the cool ones, not even by themselves – especially not by themselves.  
He can tell Suki is only being half-sarcastic, in an affectionate way, and also earnestly means it at the same time. Somehow this makes perfect sense.

There are a couple of people huddled in a corner, attempting to glue badly chopped pieces of wood together with hot glue. Some of them seem intensely focused on the craft, some just look overtaxed.  
A gloomy looking black haired girl stands and watches them, seemingly commenting on their not so successful attempts instead of assisting, arms crossed and looking wildly unimpressed. There is glue everywhere on the floor and the planks keep falling apart. Sokka watches the gloomy girl facepalm when a guy with long, brown hair manages to glue a piece of wood onto his hand and tries to tug it off with little success. It's quite painful to watch.  
Sokka opens his mouth to ask Suki if she's going to introduce him when a heart-filled: “FUCK!” resonates through the hall and then there are sparks flying and the stage lights are flickering and there's a loud buzzing noise before they go out and it's dark.

For approximately half a second not a soul makes a sound.

Then simultaneous yelling of “WHAT HAPPENED” and “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO” and “I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING” join the faint remaining buzz of the half-dead lights and Sokka hears Suki sigh next to him. 

He's frozen in place and wonders why the curtains are drawn closed. They would at least have been able too see now.

Another bang echoes, from what must be someone tripping, and a large object, that could only have been one of the stage lights, crashes down in the process.

“Don't move”, Suki says and Sokka feels her retreat from where she stood beside him.

There's some ruffling and indistinguishable murmuring and then the lights overhead turn on.  
Suki leans against the light switch in the corner, one hand on her hip, an amused expression on her face.

“Suki!” a girl in a pink crop top screeches after spotting her from where she seems to have flopped down on the floor, a few meters from where Sokka is still standing. “You goddess of a woman! What would we do without you!” Sokka thinks the girl might have been part of the group that had been attempting to glue the planks together.

With some light back on, the full magnitude of the incident is laid bare: The items previously dispersed around the stage are now seemingly everywhere. Some have fallen off the stage and are covering the empty space of the auditorium below. The stage lights lay on the ground, glass of the bulbs burst and glittering shards everywhere. The guy that had been fumbling with the cables right next to where the lights had been standing thankfully isn't in his previous spot anymore and seems to have gotten away in time. Sokka has no idea where he evaporated to. The group that had been fighting with the hot-glue have entirely split up in their panic. Solely the gloomy girl is left, angrily holding onto a misshapen plank with both of her pale hands. The rest of the pieces have collapsed and lay on top of each other, all previous attempts of construction, undone. The scene is absolutely unreal and hilarious. Sokka snorts.

The girl on the floor's head snaps toward him, her long braid shadowing the movement- seemingly only then noticing him.  
After trailing her eyes up and down his whole body for a long, uncomfortable moment, she smirks.

“Who are you, handsome?”

Sokka's first emotion is embarrassment, and then he's flattered.

“Stop flirting, Ty Lee”, Suki replies and Sokka feels heat rush into his cheeks. “This is Sokka”

Ty Lee rises from the ground with one swift and elegant motion, standing up straight and making her way towards Sokka, kicking away a glue gun that lays in her way.

“Hi”, Sokka suggests when Ty Lee's face is close enough to his that he could count the freckles on her nose.

“Hi”, she teases.

“Let him live”, Suki laughs and Ty Lee draws back, hands on her hips.

“I'm just being welcoming”

“Sure you are”, Suki jokingly rolls her eyes and then turns half way and raises her voice enough for the whole hall to hear her:  
“IS EVERYBODY OKAY?”

There's what sounds like people mumbling in agreement and some more shuffling around as they begin to attempt cleaning up the mess, until a gruff voice states:

“Zuko's hurt”

Sokka is quickly able to assign the voice to the gloomy girl, who is now standing in front of the stage and holding up a guy's wrists. Said guy is angrily glaring down at her but doesn't try to wretch his wrists free from her grip. 

He mumbles something that sounds like It's nothing, I'm fine, to what the girl responds loud enough for everyone to hear: “You're bleeding. It's not nothing”

This causes the guy to shake her off and yell: “I said, I'M FINE!”

Suki sighs again and Sokka suspects the bickering is nothing new to her. “I should take a look at that”, she says.

She makes her way over to a corner and takes the mandatory first aid kit off the wall.

Right when she's about to take it to the angry and apparently injured boy, cable guy, who has somehow reappeared on stage, exclaims:

“Suki? Help!”

She stops dead in her tracks. “What is it?”

“I don't know how to clean up glass shards without turning my fingers into sashimi”

Suki groans and looks conflicted.

“You go and help with the splinters, I'll go and look after the injury”, Sokka offers. 

Suki looks at him, surprised.  
As if she's used to having to handle messes by herself and hadn't even bothered considering asking for assistance.

“Oh, yeah. Sure”

She hands him the kit, takes Ty Lee by the hand and off they go to rescue cable guy from death by broken lamp.

Sokka draws in a sharp breath and mentally braces himself for the upcoming encounter with moping guy.

As he walks closer to the boy, who is arguing with his the black haired girl that so viciously betrayed him, he is able to slowly get a proper look at him. First Sokka notices his stance: Feet shoulder-wide apart and spine straight, weight evenly distributed as if bracing for an attack, but head hanging low, hands hidden in the front of his black hoodie. A few strands of dark hair escaped his hood and are hanging into his face, hiding his features.  
The guy's appearance is… contradicting.

“Hey”, Sokka says and stops an arms-length away from the two.

Both look up simultaneously. And Sokka's throat is suddenly really dry.  
He wasn't prepared for that. Wasn't prepared for the angry guy to be most stunning man he has ever seen in his entire life. As he looked up, the boy's ink-like hair has fallen out of his face.  
The rest is tied back, exposing pale skin and a set of pointy features; high cheekbones, a sharp jaw and chin. 

Sokka's unable to avert his gaze.

“Hello?” the pretty guy replies, sounding confused.  
His voice is graveling, as if he just woke up and his vocal chords are still sore.

Sokka knows he's still staring but he just can't help it when the stranger's unusual, honey-like eyes meet his. The left side of his face is covered in a large, red burn scar. It covers the area around his eye, spilling onto his cheek and trailing all the way up into his hairline. He looks unreal. Alien and ethereal.

Sokka clears his throat and attempts to swallow the lump that has formed in his throat. “You're- Zuko, right? I'm supposed to... uh, tend to your wounds”, Sokka laughs awkwardly.

“Oh!” The confusion on Zuko's face turns into surprise. 

“It's nothing, really, I'm okay, it's just a scratch-”

The girl cuts him off. “Damn it, Zuko. Just let him look at your stupid hand.”

Zuko stops his rambling and lets out a long, exasperated sigh, shoulders and head dropping down even further in defeat.

“Sure. I guess”

Sokka softly closes the door of the storage/bath/changing room to give Zuko some privacy, and the sounds from the hall are immediately muffled.

When he turns around, Zuko is awkwardly leaning against a table, pressing a paper tissue down on his injured hand with the other, chewing on his bottom lip and staring at the floor. He must have taken off his hood when Sokka had been facing the door. Zuko's hair is quite disheveled from previously being covered. Sokka takes a deep breath and urges himself not to make this weird, placing the emergency kit on to the ground.

“Let's see then”, he prompts and Zuko looks up.  
Sokka is caught off guard by his eyes again.

“Show me your hand”

Zuko slowly unwraps it and places the blood-soaked tissue on the table behind him. 

“It's just a scratch, honestly. Mai was just being... overprotective”

Sokka steps closer to inspect the other boy's hand, which he is holding out towards him.

“Let me be the judge of that”, he says.

There's a deep slash right through Zuko's pale palm, accompanied by a few tiny scratches on the insides of his fingers. Zuko turns his hand and there are cuts on his knuckles as well. 

“That must be painful”, Sokka says, stepping closer, carefully placing Zuko's warm hand in his to achieve a better angle for examining the ruined skin. “How'd this happen?”

“I was preparing some stuff backstage- When the lights exploded a few splinters flew toward me and I tried to shield myself”, Zuko explains, only briefly looking up at Sokka before choosing to talk to their hands again, “My sleeve caught most of it, though”

“Hmm”, Sokka hums, “The cut in your palm is quite deep, man. You might need stitches”

Zuko abruptly draws his hand back and out of Sokka's. “What? No!”

Sokka protectively takes a step back. “I'm saying it would heal better that way, that's all”, he bows down and grabs the first aid kid from where he had previously placed it on the floor, “But let's see what we can do for now. Could you sit on the table, please?”

Zuko obliges and pops himself up on the head of he table, legs dangling. Sokka can't help but notice his feet are not quite touching the floor. Zuko's barely shorter than him, but this makes him look smaller than he is. It's pretty cute. Sokka places the kit on the table in front of him and behind the other boy, on Zuko's left, for best access to his hand.  
That way he can avoid having to straddle him and maintain as much personal space as possible when patching him up. 

Zuko places his messed up hand on the wood, a trace of blood already trailing down his skin.

“This might sting a bit, I'm sorry” Sokka says, “But you have to hold still”

Zuko just shrugs. “I can take it”

When the disinfectant makes contact with the wound Zuko takes in sharp breath and his arm twitches, but he manages to hold still.

“Sorry”, Sokka mumbles, “Does it hurt?”

“No”

Sokka wipes the blood off with a cloth and takes out tweezers from the kit, carefully extracting a minuscule glass shard from the cut. Focused on not pricking Zuko he ignores the hair falling out of his wolf tail and into his face. He he feels Zuko's gaze on him but doesn't react- he doesn't know how to.

“Here we go, tough guy”, Sokka simply says when the shard is out, and flings it away. “Now we just need to wrap you up and you're good to go”

Zuko watches him assemble the necessary gauze bandage and plaster strips in silence.  
Sokka, uncharacteristically, doesn't know what to say, so he just begins cutting the white fabric into pieces appropriately sized for Zuko's hand. 

When he takes hold of it again and starts wrapping the bandage around, applying light pressure, Zuko asks: “Where did you learn how to do this?”

“What, first aid? This is nothing, it's just your standard pressure bandage” Sokka tries to concentrate on his job, to only focus on generating a good bandage, but his thoughts keep shifting to how pretty Zuko's hands are; to his long and delicate fingers, his well tended to nails. “We aren't many in my village, and there are barely any people that aren't old women or toddlers- so I felt like I should be prepared if anything ever happens to anyone”, Sokka explains, barely hearing his own voice. He wonders if Zuko's fingertips are as soft as his palms smooth.

“So I did basic first aid training. To make sure that there'd always be someone around that can be counted on when someone gets hurt. I like being prepared” A strand of hair tickles Sokka's nose and he blows it away, “You have nice hands”, he adds mindlessly, his mouth faster than his brain.

A heartbeat later it sinks in what he just said. 

Sokka considers trying to come up with anything to backtrack, a dumb joke maybe, but when he looks up he sees Zuko blushing, a slight smile playing with the corners of his mouth.

“I, uhm- Thank you”, he stutters and so Sokka simply smiles back instead.

He's done with the bandage now and gently lets go of Zuko's hand, beginning to gather the tools he used.

“It's not too tight or anything?”, he asks to make sure.

“No, it feels comfortable. Thank you”

Sokka nods, satisfied with his work, and places the tweezers back in the box, the leftover bandages on top, and clicks it shut.

“Thank you”, Zuko says again, blinking, then shaking his head regretfully, “I said that already. But this time I meant thanks for treating the cut. Not the compliment. Also thanks for the compliment, though. I should stop talking”

When everything is cleaned up and Zuko's face has ceased being that adorable shade of pink, Sokka holds the door open for him, trying to stop grinning, which proves to be quite difficult- Zuko's awkwardness is almost too enticing to not make fun of. Together they walk back into the hall.

Suki seems to have worked a miracle.  
The mess has almost been entirely cleaned up; all that's left of the explosion are the broken bulbs in the standard lamps.

Cable guy is dusting off his hands, looking satisfied on the clean stage. Mai and Ty Lee are sitting on the edge of the stage, Ty Lee swinging her legs back and forth.

"You wanna introduce me to your friends?", Sokka asks, "I've met Ty Lee, but not Mai"

"Oh, sure", Zuko replies, the suggestion seemingly an entirely new idea to him. 

They stop before the girls, the angle kind of awkward. Sokka's face is around the height of their knees and he has to throw his head back to talk to them.

"Hey, cutie", Ty Lee greets, looking down at Sokka. 

He's prepared this time, so he doesn't freak and offers her a relaxed smile instead.

"Uhm, well, this is.…", Zuko starts.

"Sokka", Sokka says and waves up at the girls.

"Don't tell me you didn't even ask his name", Mai addresses Zuko.

"I didn't-"  
“We had other priorities, it's okay”, Sokka laughs, patting Zuko's shoulder, who flinches.  
Sokka makes a mental note not to touch him again before asking.

"Well, thanks for stitching this idiot up", Mai says, giving Zuko no chance to add anything, no chance to defend himself. "He's not always so impolite"

Zuko looks like he's about to yell at her, but is once again interrupted, this time by Ty Lee.

"You're new here, aren't you?", she asks curiously, looking down at Sokka, "I haven't seen you around. And I'm sure I'd remember a face like that"

"Yep, first day", Sokka responds, ignoring the last part. 

"You guys have all been here a while, I assume?"

They all nod.

"3 years", Ty Lee says.

"Must be awesome", Sokka wonders, "You must feel like you've got the world at your feet"

Zuko stiffens beside him and Mai frowns.  
Ty Lee is the only one that has no physical reaction to Sokka's statement. But even she doesn't really outright confirm his thesis.

"It has its good and bad sides", she simply says, her smiley expression and swinging legs not complementing her evasive answer.

Although that does make Sokka really curious he doesn't want to make the three of them uncomfortable since he only knows them for about five minutes.  
So he decides to let it go- for now.

"What were you guys working on, before everything exploded?", he asks instead, "With those planks?"

"Oh!" Ty Lee exclaims. She seems to the more talkative of the three, by far. "We were making a giant rock, for the play. We're doing 'Prometheus bound' this semester and so we need to built a huge cliff sort-of-thing"

"You were trying to built a rock with stiff planks?", Sokka raises a brow.

"Uhm, yeah...?"

"Why didn't you guys just use Styrofoam or something?"

Ty Lee looks at Mai who just shrugs and then hesitantly replies: "We aren't really the crafty type. Why do you think we picked a play that requires like no scenery at all?”

"I wondered" Sokka answers, not wanting to admit he doesn't exactly know the play in detail.  
He knows about the Prometheus myth -the titan stealing fire and gifting it to humanity, being punished for it by eternally getting chained to a cliff, each day an eagle picking out his ever growing back liver- and is aware "Prometheus bound" is one of the few conserved Greek tragedies, but that's about it. "If I wanted to make a fake rock I'd carve one out of Styrofoam and paint it, I think. Will it just stand around in the back or do you need to move it at some point?"

“We don't exactly need to move it, but we need to tie Prometheus up against it. It needs to continue to stand when we do that and it's not allowed to move when he struggles with the bonds”, Ty Lee explains, “Isn't foam way too light for that?”

She does have a point. 

“Hmm...”, the wheels in Sokka's brain begin spinning, he's mentally skimming a list of materials. Quickly he realizes he'll need some more time to think to come up with the perfect solution.  
“Give me a few days, I'll figure something out”, he settles.

Ty Lee's eyes light up and she jumps down from the stage, landing gracefully in front of Sokka and excitedly grabbing both of his hands. 

“Great! Does that mean you'll be joining us?”

Sokka's first instinct is to laugh and tell her she misunderstood. That he only meant to provide some advice because he just couldn't help himself and had to immediately attempt to try to solve a problem when encountering one.

“I can't act at all”, he stutters.

“That's never stopped these people before” Mai mutters.

Ty Lee radiates excitement.  
“You don't have to! We never had a prop-person before! This is gonna make things so much easier!”, she begins to swing their hands around and lightly bounces up and down, “You'll be perfect, trust me!”

“You don't even know him” Mai interposes.

“He managed to stitch up Zuko without getting murdered”, Ty Lee shrugs, “He'll manage to built some fake rocks”

Zuko snorts. “Hey!”

Sokka lets the idea sink in.  
These people seem quite...fun isn't the right word, but he cant come up with a better one, and joining would mean quickly establishing some kind of social connections.  
He'd also get to use his creativity and could regularly tinker around. It might be a bit much, putting his hours into a theater production, while also trying to navigate a life in a new country, a new school and probably quite challenging classes, but why shouldn't he at least try it out? He could always leave again if it gets too much, right? 

If he'd join, he'd get to regularly hang around in this hall. He'd regularly get to see Zuko. Sokka wonders why that thought crossed his mind. And why it makes his tummy feel so windswept.

“Okay”, he decides, “I'll be your prop guy”

Ty Lee cheers, Mai nods indifferently and Zuko just looks at him- twin pools of molten honey scorching Sokka's skin. He doesn't dare returning the look.

Sokka tells himself his decision definitely doesn't have anything to do with Zuko- that would be ridiculous.  
He doesn't even know the guy.

Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAH! I can't believe the first Chapter is out!  
> Although this is basically just a rough set up and an introduction to most of the main cast and the setting, I hope it was still fun to read.
> 
> I've always loved words and writing, and I've been wanting to write about Zukka for a while; because I knew I needed an outlet for all my stored up feelings for them. When this idea popped up in my head I coudn't stop myself from attempting to write this story.
> 
> This is basically a Dark Academia AU, in which Zuko is a theater kid, Sokka is brilliant, but the both of them are not the best at *cOmMuNiCaTiOn*.  
> Oh, and Yue is alive!
> 
> This is the first thing I'm writing, so I have a lot to learn. English also isn't my first language so if my grammar gets goofy or my spelling a bit wonky at some point- you know that's why. I'm having lots of fun, though. And that's the most important thing.
> 
> I made a tumblr for my writing: @betrothedzukka  
> Feel free to tell me anything there, or in the comments here
> 
> Happy 2021, everyone :) May this year be kind to us (or at least somewhat better than the previous).
> 
> The name of this first Chapter is a quote from "Prometheus bound" by Aeschylus.


	2. And every color comes to life, as petals fall before your eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka has a hangover, Zuko yells a bit and both of them overthink everything.

Sokka attempts to steady himself by leaning his forehead against the door.  
His hands are shaking; he keeps missing the key hole, failing to unlock the door to his flat as the world keeps spinning. He slightly sways but continues to disorientedly shove the key into the vague direction of the lock.

After what feels like an eternity, the door finally opens with a discrete creaking and Sokka lets out a grateful groan, stumbling out of the dimly lit hallway and into his tiny new apartment, the headache throbbing at his temples mimicking the pulsating bass back at the club. 

Angrily, he attempts to toss his keys onto the tiny kitchen isle but he's so exhausted and dizzy that the throw turns into more of a lackluster drop and they pathetically tumble to the floor. He leaves them there, flopping down onto the small couch in the center of the living room and begins absentmindedly rubbing his burning eyes. 

“Fuck”, he mumbles when he allows them to fall shut and they only burn more. 

He's still really drunk -the cold night air on the walk home has only sobered him up so much- but he's already clear enough again to realize he has to at least change before it's okay to allow himself to fall asleep; so he pushes himself up and totters the three steps to the bathroom, suddenly appreciative of his new flat being the size of a shoe-box. 

Sokka wishes he was still as giddy and his head still as empty as a mere hour ago; he can already feel his brain attempting to formulate coherent thoughts again, which is precisely what he was trying to avoid. 

The cold water feels like getting hit across the face with a steel hammer, but is at least distracting him from the increasingly torturous pain in his head.

He really shouldn't have drunken those last few cocktails. Sokka knew that as he was drinking them; but now that he has to deal with the consequences he really curses himself.  
He didn't even have the money for them, either. But Suki and her friends had kept asking him if he wanted another drink and he kept saying he did. 

When Suki offered him to join her and her friends tonight, his first instinct was to say no; no it's Tuesday. They had class the next day.  
But then he realized if he declined the first time she invited him anywhere, she might not ask again. She might think he's boring or worse; entirely stuck up. So he said yes, against his better judgment. 

Suki and her friends definitely don't have to worry about missing a class or how that would affect their grades; Sokka on the other hand does. They also don't have to worry about how overpriced the drinks in that place were; Sokka definitely does. But because his pride urged him to do whatever necessary to not let the others notice how out of his price class that club was, he continued getting more and more drinks- to prove a point, at first. With each glass the wasted money hurt less and less, which was a nice side effect, so he ended up drinking more and more to rid himself of the guilt and all other doubts. 

Now it's four AM and Sokka's only half-drunk and the frightening dent this evening put into this month's budget is pretty distressing again. He can't believe he peer-pressured himself into getting wasted in the middle of the week, tossing his savings in a blender in the process.

Yeah, of course he expected there to be some uncomfortable differences between him and a school full of rich people, but he didn't expect said differences to get to him.

Sokka looks up, catching his own eye in the mirror above the sink. It's only been two days. Two days and there's already a viscous uncertainty swelling up in him. He can see it reflected in his clouded gaze, mocking him. 

Sokka knows he's being dramatic, knows he doesn't have any right to feel like this -not when he's in such a fortunate position, not when he got exactly what he wanted- and somehow that only makes him feel all the more like an impostor. He's just not sure anymore that he belongs here.

When did he become so spoiled and whiny? Maybe it's the drinks' fault; maybe the emptiness of the apartment just makes him feel lonely. Sokka's not used to this much quiet and privacy. He expected it, thought he'd love it after yearning for it for so long, but as he stands there, staring at his own reflection, his only company the dripping of the tab, he misses his sister, misses his dad, misses the presence of whoever from the village decided to stick around that day. It's too quiet. There are oceans between him and his home, countless hours between whatever this is and warmth and familiarity and that knowledge threatens to crush his insides. 

Sokka bows down to drink some tap-water to ease his heartburn, his head beginning to spin again, but stops mid-movement when the shrill sound of his ringtone echoes through the bathroom. He pulls his phone out of his back-pocket and forces his eyes to focus on the letters appearing on screen.  
Its his dad.  
Oh no.

Sokka's not surprised his father forgot about the time difference- he may be the man with the plan on most occasions, but small things like this always seem to escape his mind. 

Helplessly Sokka stares at the blaring device in his hand. Kicking off his shoes, leaving the bathroom and sitting down on his bed, he waits for the ringing to stop. Eventually, it does. Sokka sighs, turning his phone off and places it on a still-to-be-unpacked box, then sinks down onto the mattress. Laying on his side, he stares into the blackness of the room.

Dad would be so disappointed.

Sokka misses him terribly, but hearing his voice would have just made everything worse.  
The homesickness makes his limps feel heavy; it spreads through his whole body and it becomes hard to breathe. Anger at himself flares up in him so abruptly he has to clutch his shirt, trying to hold onto something, anything, desperately attempting to anchor himself. Soon his heart hurts more than his head. 

I'm gonna be okay, he reminds himself, I'm gonna be okay. I always turn out to be.  
Sokka repeats this mantra until it the dark swallows him and he falls into a timorous, formidable sleep.

Sokka wakes with a start.

Pain hits him like a lightning bolt right behind the eyes, a new kind of ache slashing through his head; this type of pain an old familiar.  
He's hungover. 

Sokka guesses that's what he deserves for being such a melodramatic ass last night. What had gotten into him?  
He's still filled to the brink with anxiety, but he's optimistic again- well, as optimistic one can possibly be considering what his poor head has to endure right now. 

He stretches and groans until his body feels less crumpled up, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.  
He needs coffee. And something hearty to eat. And then he'll be fine. 

"What time is it, anyway...", he mumbles, reaching for his phone. 

Fossilized, he stares at the digits.  
Shit. Class. 

He feels absolutely disgusting, still in his sweaty clothes from the previous night, his shirt sticking to his sides and his legs itchy from sleeping in jeans. 

Sokka almost pouts like a child when he realizes there won't be time for coffee let alone a nice greasy breakfast and sulkily kicks his blanket off. 

The entire train ride to the academy he feels like a zombie, and judging by the look the old lady sitting in front of him gives him, he looks like one too.

He arrives on campus five minutes after his first class has begun, taking the shortcut through the gardens, and is greeted by the chatter of two cleaners on a wobbly scaffold, steadily scrubbing yesterday's defacement off the main building's facade.  
Sokka frowns when he feels a faint sense of chagrin at the thought of the poem being lost forever, but when he realizes all of it is as if welded into his brain, it absconds. 

Sokka thanks all gods and spirits he's ever heard of for his good sense of directions when he manages to find the room his first class takes place in without getting lost in the nested hallways, mentally cheering when the doors have not yet been shut.

Stumbling into the lecture hall as quietly as possible, praying not to be noticed, Sokka lightly creeps into the last row and slips onto the first free seat he sees. He lets out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding and, extremely relieved, sinks deep into the chair.

“Hello”, a pleasant voice suddenly addresses him, “What are you doing down there?”

Sokka turns his head to where the voice came from, looking up into the beautiful face of the girl in the seat to his left. Her bleach-white hair is braided intricately around her head and contrasts with her deep skin, the light blue blouse she's wearing matches the gems on her earrings and necklace, complimenting her bright eyes.  
She's looking down at him, smiling temperately. 

Sokka realizes he's still slumped in his chair and tightly hugging his bag. As if stung by a bunch of wasps he shoots up straight. 

“Listening to- uhm, the lecture?”, he suggests.

The girl chuckles. “It hasn't started yet, though”

Right. It's still way too loud- people are chatting, the doors are open, there's literally no none standing at the console up front. Sokka wants to slam his head onto the table.

“Of course, I-”, he starts, then drops it, “I had a rough night”

The girl raises her perfect brows, Sokka can see her take in the shadows beneath his eyes and his general rumpledness. 

“I see”, she says sympathetically; Sokka can tell she's trying her best to hide an amused smile. 

“It's probably not what you think”, he defends himself, even though it is probably exactly what she thinks.

“Surely not”, the girl nods, still fake-serious and Sokka can't help but smile.

“I'm Sokka”, he introduces himself, holding out his hand for her to shake and giving up trying to come up with excuses.

“Nice to meet you Sokka”, the girl replies, taking his hand firmly and returning the smile, “My name's Yue”

One and a half hour later Sokka and Yue walk out of the lecture hall, side-by-side, Sokka carrying her folder. The two of them are fervidly discussing the lecture- it turns out Yue is extremely devoted to her studies and it's refreshing to talk to someone who's as passionate about the subject as Sokka is. Mechanical engineering is only her minor (her major being political science, which Yue felt obligated to choose, she tells him, but doesn't elaborate further) but it's what she's truly devoted to. 

Handing her back her folder Sokka asks: “Would like to join me and my friends for lunch? We planned to meet in the herbal garden to enjoy a little bit of sun”

He notices he's talking more formal than he usually does, but Yue's just so naturally eloquent; it seems as if she thoroughly thinks every syllable leaving her mouth through, so he naturally tries to match her- he suspects though, that it might come off a little bit stilted.

“I'd love to”, Yue answers, taking the folder from Sokka, “But I can't. My next class starts in ten minutes. Another time”

“Another time”, Sokka echoes.

Yue regretfully squeezes Sokka's wrist and turns to leave. 

When Sokka arrives in the herbal garden, Suki and Toph are already sitting at a rustic wooden table, their food displayed in front of them and chatting lively. With a grunt Sokka flings himself next to Suki, facing Toph, who's jacket and cane are taking up an entire bench, dropping his bag onto the grass with a thud. 

“Morning, grumpy”, Toph greets him, “You sound like you look like shit”

Sokka hides his face in his hands, dropping the act he had put on for Yue. He still feels as if chewed on by a bear and spit out again.  
“We haven't seen each other in half a year and this is how you welcome me?”

“You did this to yourself, honey”, Toph shrugs and takes a bite out of her sandwich, “Other people know their limits. You don't deserve no sympathy”

Sokka pouts and turns to Suki. “How come you don't look hungover at all?”

And she doesn't- Suki looks as effortlessly put together as he's come to know her; no signs of being sleep-deprived, eyeliner perfectly winged out as always, wearing earrings that match her hair tie.

“Because I'm not”, she shrugs, “Toph, did you know Sokka's an amazing dancer?”

“I did not”, Toph raises her brows.

“Oh, his hips really gave it their all yesterday”

Sokka groans and Toph gags.

“Even if I could I wouldn't wanna see that”, she says.

Sokka forgets to be offended when his stomach growls and he realizes he doesn't have anything to eat.

“I'm hungry”, he yammers and Suki slides him over one of her wraps. “Bless you, Suki”, Sokka says before unwrapping the thing and taking a huge bite, not bothering to check what's even on it. 

Feeling his will to live increase with each bite, Sokka decides to ask them about Yue. 

“I met a girl in class today”, he begins, munching, “Yue? She's really nice and smart” 

Suki also still eating, holds up her hand in front of her mouth. “Oh, Yue? Yeah, she's great. Total sweetheart. Don't know her too well, but she's nice to everyone, in the student council, obviously gorgeous and a really good student”

“Doesn't she paint, too?”, Toph adds.

“Oh yeah, she helps the drama club with the backdrops sometimes. Somehow, she finds time for that on top of everything else” 

Sokka frowns; the fact that everybody in this school seems to know everybody despite it's size is still weird to him. It reminds him of the village. “Why did you take me there, actually? To the drama club?”

“Oh, well”, Suki puts down her food, “I'm friends with Ty Lee- the bubbly one, you remember? And I knew they were really struggling with the technical, crafty kinda stuff. So, I thought, you, as an engineer, might be able to help them. And look, I didn't even need to ask you! You just joined immediately, all by yourself” 

“I feel manipulated”

“You were”, Toph says.

“I'm glaring at you”, Sokka tells her.

“Go ahead”

Sokka turns to Suki again. “So, you're friends with Ty Lee? What about the others?”

“Well, Mai is Ty Lee's best friend, I do know her. She seems a bit cold, but is actually really nice if you don't go on her nerves, I guess. The guy with the long, brown hair, remember him?”

“Cable-guy?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure, cable guy. That's Haru, he's pretty chill”

“What about that guy with the long black hair?”

“Zuko?”

“Yeah, him”

Suki searches for the right words. “He's just...He's Zuko”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

Toph takes over. “He's...difficult. He's pretty nice for the most part, good to talk to, but his dad kinda runs this school so you never know what you can say around him”

Good to talk to? In hindsight Sokka actually was kind of offended by the fact that Zuko had been so extremely passive during their conversation; leaving him to do all the work. A warm welcome certainly looks different. And when Zuko did talk to him, the guy was really awkward. But still, being close to him made Sokka feel strangely distressed and… exposed. That he doesn't know why and that deeply annoys him.

“His dad runs the academy? As in he's the headmaster or something?”, he asks.

“No...He...He's some kind of...diplomat, I wanna say? Not really sure. But he makes pretty generous donations, if you know what I'm getting at”, Suki explains.

Sokka hums, considering. 

“Also, Zuko kinda has some pretty hilarious anger issues”, Toph snorts.

“Huh?”, Sokka asks while Suki slaps Toph's arm, scolding: “Toph!”

“What?”, Toph says, “It's true! Sometimes, everything's all normal and then he just explodes as if he's a coke bottle someone dropped a mentos into”

Sokka can't help but laugh, while Suki crosses her arms. It's hard to imagine the ember-eyed boy displaying any sentiment not hidden away by a mask in the shape of lightly creased forehead and an evasive gaze, but Sokka did see him yell at Mai from far away.

“I'm sure he has his reasons”, Suki considers.

“Sure he does”, Toph replies, attention drifting back to her half-eaten sandwich, “At least he doesn't think he's the king of this place, unlike his sister” 

“True”

They sit in the drowsy autumn sun for a while longer, chatting about everything and nothing, Sokka catching up with Toph, and Suki and him getting to know each other a bit better through casual banter and dumb jokes. It's easy and comfortable and the world seems at placid. Sokka's head doesn't hurt anymore and he feels light, as if the sunlight melted his worries off his shoulders. When time runs out, neither of them look particularly forward to leaving. 

Suki asks if Sokka wants to join her and Toph for Hung Gua practice, but he declines. She tries to convince him it'd be fun and he says he bet it would, but he can't. Toph grabs Suki by the arm and stops her from trying to persuade him, dragging her away with a “Bye, Sokka”, and he's grateful for it. Toph's one of the few people that know about his leg, and he's not in the mood to indulge himself in dried-out grievances by explaining it to Suki. 

The noon has cast soft shadows over campus and Sokka marvels at the warmth on his skin. He still feels distrait -might have accidentally left his heart behind in the gardens- when he pushes open the big door to the theater hall.

There aren't as many people around as the first time he was here, but the air is nonetheless filled with the dampened sounds of people working; an intricate mixture of the ever-present shuffling of knees on the wooden floor and the fluttering of pages being turned.  
He breathes in a gush of the dusty air and smiles. 

Quickly he spots a familiar face; Ty Lee, squatting in the middle of the hall and fumbling with what might be a text book.  
When she sees him walking towards her, she flashes him a big-toothed smile and gives a little wave.

“Hey”, Sokka says.

“Hey”, Ty Lee replies, “Do you think Prometheus would wear eyeliner? 'Cause I think he totally is an eyeliner-guy” She taps her glossy pink lips with a pencil, “On the other hand… where would he get eyeliner from, chained to a cliff and all?” 

“Maybe it's just a part of his awesome titan powers?”

Ty Lee beams up at him. “You're absolutely right! I knew you'd encourage me to take more artistic liberties. Coming up with costumes is hard enough as it is. What a great addition to the team you are”

“You're doing the costumes?”

“Yup”, she nods a few times too much.

Sokka's impressed. “That's amazing! So much work, I bet. Definitely requires a lot of creativity, doesn't it?”

Ty Lee nods again. “Yeah, but it's fun too, I do enjoy it”

Sokka sits down crossed-legged in front of her, trying to sneak a glance at her sketches. “Are you in the play, too?”

“Yeah, I play Io. She's with Zeus, and a princess. Eventually saves Prometheus. Really interesting character arc”

“Sounds quite twisted”

“Oh, it is”

Sokka watches her sketch for a while. When she's quiet she's still oozing gaiety, her hands trailing the pencil over the paper as if she's composing an upbeat melody. She listens to his ideas and proposals regarding the props and answers all questions he has about the space and money they have available for the production. In return she asks Sokka his opinion on her first few finished sketches. 

The coziness created by Ty Lee's natural candor is disrupted by loud voices coming from the stage.

“-since it is most advantageous, when truly wise, to be deemed a fool”, Sokka hears a guy say.

“This fault will be seen to be my own”, a graveling voice replies; a voice Sokka knows. 

“Clearly the manner of your speech orders me back home”

By the time Zuko spits out the next line Sokka has turned around. 

“So that you won't win enmity for yourself by lamenting for me”, Zuko recites, determinedly glowering at the actor across him. 

Time seems to slow. The man up on stage barely resembles the awkward boy that had been hiding in his hood on Monday and had insisted on vehemently avoiding Sokka's eyes. Zuko seems to have transformed; the way he speaks is assured, his shoulders aren't folded in on themselves anymore. His hair is open today, flowing past his shoulders and catching the light. Sokka's mesmerized.  
Zuko moves gracefully, portraying the defiance and ridicule his character shows in the scene in a weirdly hypnotizing, almost seductive way, a crooked grin making his eyes sparkle with mischief. Sokka's eyes are transfixed on Zuko's elegant fingers that are loosely holding onto his script. His nails are painted black. Sokka cant help but think how hot that is. Hes always had a thing for guys wearing nail polish.  
Zuko's not looking at the textbook, instead engaging in some sort of staring contest with the other guy on stage. The tension between them is so thick it makes the hair on Sokka's arms stand up.

A gentle rattle makes Sokka snap out of it. 

“Sokka? Hey”, Ty Lee is shaking him gently. “What do you say?”

“Hm? I'm sorry, what?”

“Light or dark blue for the cape? I want it to sorta resemble the ocean”

Sokka blinks. “Uh, dark”

“Alright”, Ty Lee scribbles something down on her notepad/sketch book/script. 

Sokka tries to catch up with who's outfit she's planning, but his ears seem to rather want to focus on the scene going on behind him.  
They seem to be done though; at least the conversation has ended. The sound of steps, actors changing positions, the thud of someone jumping off stage. Then Zuko's yelling. Why is he always yelling?

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE ISN'T HERE? SHE KNEW WE WE'RE GONNA DO THIS SCENE TODAY”

A muffled reply, something creaking.

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REHEARSE THIS WITHOUT A HERMES?!”, and then quieter, “I can't work like this”

Sokka turns around again, baffled by the contrast. Gone is the whimsical, mysterious Prometheus, in his place a moody university student. Zuko has his hands thrown up in the air in bewilderment, angrily waving around his text book. So that's what Toph was talking about.

“Mai is with Azula”, Ty Lee shouts at him and Zuko immediately stops gesticulating, his shoulders dropping with a grouchy “Hmpf” and Sokka marvels at how he can be so annoying and hot at the same time.

“What's going on?” Sokka whispers in Ty Lee's direction.

“Mai's in the next scene, but she isn't here. She's with a friend. Zuko's sister”, she explains, back to her draft and putting a last few finishing touches on the ocean-cape.

“Can somebody fill in for her?”

“Not really, we're all pretty busy ourselves, I think”

“Hmm...”, Sokka considers, then makes a spontaneous decision. He stands up. “I could rehearse with you”, he offers, raising his voice so Zuko can hear him on the other side of the room, “If you want”

“Good idea”, Ty Lee says. 

Sokka gives her a quick smile and then jogs over to the stage, stopping in front of where Zuko is standing and gazing up at the other boy, who's looking down at him expectantly, dark hair pooling around his face. 

“I can read Mai's lines if you wanna practice anyway”, Sokka holds out his hand, offering it to Zuko to help him down. “I'm a pretty shit actor but I can manage a bit of reading” He winks. 

Zuko takes a moment to consider, his eyes flickering over Sokka's face.  
“Why not”, he says eventually, and takes his hand. 

Holding onto Sokka for support Zuko does a little jump down, landing right in front of him. He might have slightly miscalculated the distance between Sokka and the edge of the stage though, because when Zuko straightens back up they are face to face; close enough for Sokka to be able to count Zuko's dark lashes- if he wanted to. For a heartbeat none of them moves, but then Sokka realizes he's still holding onto Zuko's hand. He quickly lets go.

Zuko visibly swallows, then turns away and stretches to grab a second text book for Sokka from the small pile on the edge of the stage. His shirt slips up a bit, exposing a thin line of the pale skin of his back. Sokka wants to punch himself because his eyes are glued to it, as if he's been hypnotized. His head is empty until the fabric slides down again.

Zuko turns back around, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and hands Sokka the book. Sokka notices the fresh bandage around the other boy's palm. 

“How is your hand doing?”

Zuko smiles, surprisingly. “It's doing pretty well, thanks to you”

Sokka grins. “Glad to hear it”

Zuko seems to scan the room, then suggests: “Do you mind if we go somewhere more quiet? I can barely hear myself think in here”

“What, you wanna take this to the storage room again?”, Sokka laughs, choosing not to acknowledge that until very recently the loudest element in the whole hall by far had been Zuko himself.

“No, you jerk”, Zuko laughs and it's raspy and almost genuine, “Let's go outside. I… I like the sun”

Sokka nods, indifferent, so Zuko begins leading the way. His long, dark hair bobs on his back, in time with his long strides.  
They walk through the dim hallway for a bit, side by side, in a silence that makes Sokka feel uneasy. Sokka waits to see if Zuko's going to initiate a conversation or if he's going to treat this as some sort of business deal. Is he going to have to carry the whole thing again?  
When he can't stand it anymore, Sokka nudges the other boy with his elbow. Zuko just looks at him questioningly.

“Love the nails”, Sokka says, and Zuko blushes.

“Uh- thanks”, some awkward few seconds pass before he adds, “How are you liking it here so far? The school, I mean? The country too, I guess. Since you've had to travel quite a bit”

Sokka raises his brows. “You know where I'm from?”

Zuko blushes again, impossibly more deeply. “Oh, yeah”, he rubs at his neck, embarrassed, “My father… works for the academy, so I'm usually pretty up to date with stuff like that”

Right. “Maybe you can explain then, why they made me transfer in the middle of the semester”

Zuko grimaces. “This is gonna sound horrible, but...They like to make it harder for the scholarship students. Test them on how well they can catch up. It is pretty horrible, I guess, actually. Anyway” He coughs, not so subtly alluding to a subject change, “So, what do you think?”

“It's very different”, Sokka considers, going along with it because he really doesn't know what to say, “In a good way mostly. It's warmer. Sunny”

“I figured”, Zuko says dryly and Sokka can't tell if the other's being sarcastic or if he's simply uninterested.

“There's a lot more to see here. Regular public transport, which is a plus”

“You think there's a lot to see here?”, Zuko wonders, pushing open the door that leads to the gardens, holding it open for Sokka. So he does have manners, at least.

“Definitely. You turn and you find yourself facing someone you've never seen and probably won't ever see again. It's absolutely thrilling. I know this must sound strange to you but I'm used to knowing my whole village and every corner being familiar. It got pretty old sometimes. It kinda felt as if what I wanted was too big for the place, or something like that. But this? This is exiting. I feel like some sort of explorer”, Sokka grins.

“So you felt out of place?”

Sokka frowns. “I guess so”

They've reached the cherry tree Suki had chased Sokka past on his first day. The pale, flushed petals lay dispersed around the lawn and paved way as well as the wooden bench.  
Zuko stops, sliding down onto it, so Sokka follows, crossing his legs, turning to face Zuko who is facing the lawn.  
The tree casts a soft shadow over most of the bench, but the edges are in the direct sunlight. It warmly hits Sokka's back.  
Formally Zuko places his text book on the bench behind him. Why is he so stiff? Sokka doesn't know what to do to make him relax. He only knows if Zuko doesn't loosen up soon, he's gonna combust. The tension is starting to make him nervous; to irritate him. He's gonna have to try a different tactic: if he can't get Zuko to like him, he's gonna attempt to make him like how he feels about him. 

“You were amazing on stage”, Sokka tells him, placing his own text book in his lap, “Your performance was absolutely stunning. I loved watching you” That's not a lie at all. And passing around compliments and flirting have always come easy to Sokka; he might as well use that to his advantage. 

“Oh, that-”, Zuko stammers, “That was just rehearsal”

“No, take the compliment”, Sokka insists, “You're good. Who taught you?”

“I thought myself. Although my mother, she-”, Zuko explains, unconsciously turning his torso towards Sokka, finally properly facing him; his voice sounding far away, “She used to take me to see lots of plays when I was little. She founded this club actually, back when she was a student here”

Sokka smiles encouragingly, strangely proud of Zuko for opening up, even if just a little. “What does she do now? Is she still an actress?”

Sokka fears he might have asked the wrong question when he sees Zuko's shoulders sag slightly. But Zuko doesn't turn away again, if anything scoots a tad closer, and smiles. 

“She was in a theater troupe, pretty old fashioned; with masks and everything. Until she married my father. And stayed home for us”

Sokka hums appreciatively. “My mom was a doctor”

“Do you miss her?”

Sokka knows Zuko means if he misses his family back home, that he doesn't know he hasn't seen or talked to or hugged his mom since he was ten. But somehow, when Sokka looks into Zuko's golden eyes and they suddenly seem to hold a strange, distinctive gentleness, he suspects Zuko somehow understands how much he means it when he replies: “Every minute”

Zuko's still directly looking Sokka in the eyes when he says: “Being on stage is easy. No matter what you feel, your role feels something else. You might be nervous or angry or on edge, but they're something entirely different. Usually, anyways”, Sokka suspects Zuko might pretty often feel nervous or angry or on edge; “Someone entirely different. You're nervous, but the character you're playing isn't” Sokka almost wishes Zuko'd be staring at the ground again because he's not sure what's worse; the evasiveness or this newfound intensity. Both is hard to stomach. “So I guess, in a way, my mom did teach me. When she taught me to always be empathetic and try to understand why others behave the way they do”, Zuko shakes his head, “I don't know” 

Sokka suddenly has the urge to reach out to Zuko, place a hand on his arm or something, to assure him he doesn't need to be embarrassed, but he still remembers the other boy flinching the last time he tried to touch him in the hall, so he sits on his hand instead.  
“You're really passionate about this” It's not a question. 

Sokka expects Zuko to be embarrassed again, but to his surprise he turns the rest of his body, folds his legs beneath each other and just confidently says: “Yeah”

That boy really is like a living mosaic, Sokka thinks, made up of a dozen mismatched pieces that clash. Sokka never knows what side of him to expect, which one is gonna rise to surface and answer him in that moment.

Sokka realizes Zuko has never actually openly faced him like this. He was always looking down, hiding his face in his hair, turning away as soon as possible. Which is why now, Sokka is completely struck by the violent delicacy of his features. Zuko's so pretty when hes not yelling. That's kind of a lie. Zuko's also pretty when he is, in fact, yelling, but Sokka doesn't want to admit that. 

“Do you wanna do it now?”

Sokka almost chokes on his spit. “Wh-what?”

Zuko reaches for his script and gives it a soft smack. “The reading”

Now Sokka is the one looking away and trying to hide his face, which doesn't work as well because he doesn't have any convenient bangs. 

“Sure”, he manages.

Zuko reaches out and takes the book out of Sokka's lap, skimming through the pages. He licks his thumb to separate the page he was looking for from another one it is stuck to, then hands it back over to Sokka, who somehow, kind of doesn't know where to look at all.

Zuko points to a line on the top of the page. “Start here. All you need to do is read Hermes”

“I can manage that”  
“You better give it your all”, Zuko jokes.

That somehow reminds Sokka that he in fact is the one in charge of the jokes, so he passionately puts his fist up in front of his heart, squeezes his eyes shut and solemnly announces: “Gonna pour my whole soul into it”

Zuko laughs that raspy laugh again and this time it's probably entirely real. 

“To you, the clever and crafty, bitter beyond all bitterness”, Sokka over-elaborates, because he feels kind of weird about how intense the lines are and when he's embarrassed he makes fun of things, “Who has sinned against the gods in bestowing honors upon creatures of a day—“, he stumbles over the words, fighting against the awkwardness swelling up inside him, forcing his voice to not loose volume, “To you, thief of fire, I speak”  
Zuko wastes no time. “Bravely spoken is your speech”, he says softly, passively, provocative in the same lazy and conceited way as earlier on stage, “Young you are, as young your power, and you think indeed that you inhabit heights beyond the reach of grief”  
Sokka's thrown off by how seriously Zuko takes this reading, automatically going along with it, trying to match his sincerity at least a bit, because making fun of the whole thing would make him feel worse.  
“By such proud willfulness you brought yourself to this harbor of distress. I think you revel in your present plight” This time the words don't make him stumble, he somehow got used to the way they flow, the rhythm making his tongue dance. When he's finished he looks up to see Zuko watching him.  
“Let his blazing lightning be hurled. Nothing of this shall bend my will”, he says, hunched forward, long strands of dark hair caressing his face, gaze fixated on Sokka, and Sokka gets lost in the sheer intensity of it. Zuko's got him spellbound and all Sokka can manage is to look at him.  
“Your turn” Zuko whispers.

Sokka clears his throat. “Right” 

Before he can continue, a warm gust of wind rustles through the tree above them, the blossoms murmuring as they brush against each other. Zuko looks up at the treetop and begins to grin wholeheartedly when a million petals begin to rain down on the two of them like a pastel-colored monsoon.  
They land on Sokka's shoulders and on the top of his head, in Zuko's hair and in his lap. Zuko reaches up and catches one in his palm just to blow it away as if it were a dandelion.  
In that moment he looks so soft and lovely and adorable Sokka forgets the self-applied rule about touching Zuko, reaches up to a low-hanging branch and picks off a blossom; he leans forward and carefully tucks it behind Zuko's ear.  
Zuko's laughter drizzles out of him, leaving his face with an empty, no, surprised expression, eyes wide; unguarded. His pale cheeks turn the color of the petals. 

“Pink suits you”, Sokka smirks.

“Shut up”, Zuko mumbles softly, removing the flower. Sokka's disappointed but doesn't dare forcing him to keep it.

The setting suns paints the gardens with warm strokes, casting a shadow over the scarred side of Zuko's face and for the first time Sokka wonders where he got the mark from. Zuko seems to wear it so indifferently that it somehow never seemed any more apparent to Sokka than any other feature of his face. Objectively that doesn't make sense, but Sokka doesn't care.  
The sun setting must mean it's getting late. A glance at his phone proves to Sokka time has escaped him. He jumps up, for the second time that day offering Zuko his hand. This time he takes it with no hesitation. Again it feels as if tiny lightning bolts are being passed from him to Sokka. 

“It's getting late”, Sokka explains, “I gotta get home”

“Alright”

They stroll through the gardens in silence, strangely paralleling their earlier walk out here, but it feels different now. The silence is easy, not so heavy on Sokka's shoulders. 

They reach the parking lot, which is almost empty. Most people must have already left.  
Zuko starts digging through his pockets, eventually finding the car keys he had been looking for. 

“So”, Sokka rubs his neck, “It was nice… rehearsing with you. Hit me up if you ever need anyone to practice with. I'd be glad to”, because he doesn't now how to not awkwardly say goodbye -what would be the appropriate move here? Definitely not some kind of bro hug. A handshake? - he adds that he has a bus to catch.

Zuko's brows furrow. “You're not taking the bus, don't be stupid. Let me drive you”

Part of Sokka is scared the drive will be awkward and he almost declines but when he slides into the new-smelling seat of Zuko's expensive black car all his regrets are out the window. 

“Dude! This is awesome!”, Sokka yells as he fastens his seat belt, pulling down the sun visor and excitedly testing the softness of the headrest. 

“You're a car person?”

“Not really”, Sokka grins at him, “I just appreciate good mechanics”

Zuko grumbles something indistinct and grabs the steering wheel, attempting to roll out of the parking lot backwards.

“Sorry”, he mumbles and then places his arms on Sokka's head rest to get a better look at where he's going. 

“Where to?”, Zuko asks and Sokka tells him his new address. It's only about ten minutes from campus and Sokka tries to take in the buildings they pass on this new route, but quickly his attention is drawn back to the boy next to him. He silently studies Zuko's profile. He looks focused on the road ahead and Sokka thinks he doesn't notice him staring but after a few moments, Zuko, still without taking his eyes off the street, deadpans: “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing. I was just...”

“What?”

“Nothing” 

Sokka sighs, turning to rest his head against the window and tugs his coat tighter around himself.

“Are you cold?”, Zuko asks.

“What? No, it's alright”, Sokka smirks, “I thought you knew where I'm from”

“Right”, Zuko says and there's a hint of amusement in his voice, “Sorry”

“May I?” Sokka asks, pointing at the car radio. When Zuko nods he starts fiddling with it until he finds a passable station. Satisfied, he leans back again.

“So, what are you into besides theater?”

Zuko bites his lip. “You're gonna think I'm so lame”

“Never”

Zuko rolls his eyes. “I like reading. And writing I guess”

“What do you read?”

“Everything. Fiction. Poetry, sometimes”

“Sounds cultured”

Zuko snorts. “Not everyone reads manuals and lifts in their free time”

“You think I lift?” 

“So you do read manuals”

“...occasionally”

Zuko laughs. “You're impossible”

“I'm not completely uncultured”, Sokka defends himself, “I used to write Haikus when I was like fourteen”

“No way” 

“I did! And they weren't even half bad!”

“I won't believe that till I hear one. I want proof” Zuko sounds a bit too excited.

“Forget it”

Zuko hits the breaks, the car is slowly coming to a halt. Sokka looks up and finds himself looking up the plain gray building that domiciles his apartment. He hasn't even noticed they're there already. Zuko's fancy car looks entirely out of place in the extremely average, kind of dirty-ish street. Sokka cant help but think that the car standing here must look like what he looks like walking around the academy, but reversed. To his surprise, Zuko pulls the key out of his car and it locks with a quiet thud. 

“You're not allowed to leave my car till I hear a Haiku”, he states, crossing both arms over his chest like a pouty child, his eyes sparkling expectantly, keys dangling from one hand. 

Sokka wiggles a brow. “What if I wanna stay?”

“Dude”

“Okay fine”, Sokka dramatically clears his throat, closes his eyes and sing-yells, “My name is Sokka. I'm trapped in a cool car. Zuko, let me go” 

Zuko facepalms, but unlocks the door.  
“That was a disgrace. You're banished from my car forever”

Sokka, grinning, opens his seat belt and slides out of the vehicle. “Sure. See you tomorrow”, he ducks his head back in the car to blow Zuko a kiss, “You're picking me up, no?”

“Go away!” Zuko throws a tissue (that must have been laying around somewhere in the car) at Sokka, but Sokka slams the door and it hits the car window. He laughs loudly, turning to go. Zuko rolls down the window. “I'm not your personal chauffeur!”

“And not a decathlete either, it seems”, Sokka calls over his shoulder.

As he bounces toward his apartment building he distantly hears the bubbling of the car engine starting. Zuko's laugh is loud enough for Sokka to hear it anyways.  
The sound stays with him the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's scary not knowing where you belong.  
> More Blue Spirit stuff coming soon!! 
> 
> Uni has been incredibly much and I just have generally been super stressed, so it was really nice to have writing to relax. These two really are great comfort characters, haha.  
> My tumblr is @betrothedzukka in case you wanna talk :)  
> Comments are also always apprechiated and a big seratonin boost!!
> 
> The chapter title is from the song "Hypnotised" by Years & Years. All recited lines are obviously from the play Prometheus Bound again, just shortened :)


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